* * *
The sun wasn’t high in the sky, but Laurel was sweating profusely. Her stomach churned as she considered what she might have ingested. She no longer assumed what she’d tasted in the water was there when it was drawn from the river. She was convinced she’d been drugged. She felt light-headed, and she struggled to keep her eyes open. Her lids were heavy, and she caught herself dozing off more than once. She thanked God for small mercies since Nelson left her alone, his hold around her waist light as he steered his horse with his other hand. Whatever tincture they added to the water, Laurel doubted any of the men knew how to brew it. Someone—some woman, more likely—brewed a tea or made a tincture that Matthew or one of the others later added to the water. They wanted her to sleep, but she couldn’t understand why she was sweating so horribly.
As Laurel’s head finally became too heavy for her neck to support, she considered how she must look. She was certain she looked ill, her pallor ashen. She suspected the MacDougall brothers drugged her to keep her complacent and to make it look as though she ailed in case they ran across anyone who wondered why they traveled with a slumbering woman.
“She’s finally asleep,” Nelson stated when they stopped to rest the horses. “Hopefully, she remains asleep while I give her another dose of the catnip tea Margaret gave me.”
“Won’t she choke?” Andrew wondered.
“We shall see,” Nelson said with a shrug. He handed Laurel down to Andrew before he dismounted. Andrew propped Laurel against a tree and supported her head when it lolled from side to side. “She’s sleeping more deeply than I expected.”
Nelson put a waterskin to Laurel’s lips and eased the contents into Laurel’s mouth. The natural response to swallow kept her from choking, but a small rivulet trailed from her lip to her jaw. The men waited with bated breath to see if she would wake. But when her body went lax and slumped, Nelson smiled.
“Better than sleep. She’s unconscious. Now to just keep her that way.” It wasn’t long before Nelson ordered the men to mount. Riding without Laurel pitching to one side or another proved more challenging that Nelson expected. His frustration with the unconscious woman grew when she continued to sweat, and it poured off her forehead onto his forearm. He called for them to make camp early.
“Riders approach,” Andrew called out.
“Campbells?” Nelson asked.
“Nay. Looks like Rosses. Her brother.”
“Perfect!”
The men turned to look at Nelson, who left Laurel to slump to the ground. He scooped dirt into his hand and forced Laurel’s fingers to scrape through it, leaving her nails encrusted with it. He grasped a nearby twig and ran it over Laurel’s cheeks and forehead, leaving scratches but no significant wounds. Her hair was still mostly neat. Nelson tugged at it, eliciting a moan from Laurel, but she didn’t move. He pulled strands loose and made her look unkempt. He threw dirt onto her gown and around her neck. By the time he’d finished, Laurel looked as though she’d been crawling through the woods on her belly.
“Ross!” Matthew called out when the party was within earshot. He waved to Monty and signaled for him to stop in the clearing where he and the others rested with Laurel. “Bluidy good we found you. We have your sister.”
“What?” Monty jumped from his horse and spotted Laurel. He ran to her side, looking suspiciously at Nelson, who appeared to be cradling her. “What happened?”
“We found her yesterday near Loch Earn,” Nelson said.
“Loch Earn? What was she going there? What were you doing there?” Donnan asked as he came to kneel beside Monty.
“Look at her. She’s obviously been mistreated. She must have used the ferry to get away from Campbell, or mayhap he dumped her there. We hoped we would catch you or we would have taken her to Balnagown,” Edgar spoke up. He and Stephen were the only ones who lived near the Rosses. Both the Gunns and MacBains lived further north. The Oliphants lived east of where they were now, and the MacDougalls lived to the west. They were the only ones who had any plausible reason to be near Loch Earn, but even then, it was out of the MacDougalls’ way. The MacFarlanes lived closer to the Campbells. Monty wondered why Andrew was with the party when he could have parted with them near Ben Vorlich and never gotten near Loch Earn. But seeing the men all together, with his unconscious sister among them, made him wary. None seemed so honorable that they would help Laurel merely because she was a woman on her own.
“Did you look for Campbell?” Monty inquired.
“We thought to, but when we tried to move her, she screamed and thrashed as though she fought someone off. She kept saying his name and trying to defend herself. We figured he was the one who did this to her,” Edgar explained. Monty nodded and glanced at Donnan. His partner looked as convinced as he felt. But until he was certain, he would take Laurel to Balnagown and not Kilchurn.
“Thank you,” Monty said as he scooped Laurel into his arms. “You have my gratitude.” He handed Laurel to Donnan while he mounted, then cradled his sister against his chest.
“We passed through a village this morning, and the healer gave us this. She said it should help ease Lady Campbell’s discomfort and mayhap even rouse her,” Nelson said as he handed a pouch to Donnan. “She said to brew it in a tea for her.”
Donnan nodded and tucked it into his sporran. He knew Monty had as little intention of giving it to Laurel as he did. The guardsman mounted but cast a long speculative look at the men in the clearing before he looked at Monty. The Ross party spurred their horses and left Nelson and his friends behind.
“Do you think they’ll give her the medicinals?” Stephen asked.
“Not bluidy likely. But she’s apt to sleep until they arrive at Balnagown.” Nelson curled his lip. “We follow at a distance and make sure the Campbells don’t catch up to them because they’re surely headed this way if they discovered she was on the ferry. Mayhap she’ll be a widow rather than Campbell becoming a widower.” Too proud of his scheme, Nelson didn’t notice the look Stephen and Andrew exchanged. Edgar and Liam stood with Nelson and Matthew, looking thick as thieves. Nelson’s plot had evolved into something far more dangerous than Andrew and Stephen expected. It had always seemed like Liam was the instigator, and Nelson was a hanger-on. But Nelson had shown his true self, and he worried Andrew and Stephen far more than Liam. Both men were torn between breaking away from the group and riding for their homes or riding with their co-conspirators and hoping they could keep anyone from dying.
“Do you stay or do you go?” Andrew asked under his breath.
“Stay for now. First chance, I tell Campbell or Ross. I didn’t agree to kill her.” Stephen murmured as they reached their horses. They waited for the other three to mount before the five men trotted a safe distance behind the Rosses.
